Such being the opposition of the owners of land, it was with the greatest
difficulty that an accurate survey of the line could be made.  At one
point the vigilance of the landowners and their servants was such, that
the surveyors were effectually prevented taking the levels by the light
of day; and it was only at length accomplished at night by means of dark
lanterns.  There was one clergyman, who made such alarming demonstrations
of his opposition, that the extraordinary expedient was resorted to of
surveying his property during the time he was engaged in the pulpit.
This was managed by having a strong force of surveyors in readiness to
commence their operations, who entered the clergyman's grounds on one
side the moment they saw him fairly off them on the other.  By a
well-organised and systematic arrangement each man concluded his allotted
task just as the reverend gentleman concluded his sermon; so that, before
he left the church, the deed was done, and the sinners had all decamped.
Similar opposition was offered at many other points, but ineffectually.
The laborious application of Robert Stephenson was such, that in
examining the country to ascertain the best line, he walked the whole
distance between London and Birmingham upwards of twenty times.

When the bill went before the Committee of the Commons in 1832, a
formidable array of evidence was produced.  All the railway experience of
the day was brought to bear in support of the measure, and all that
interested opposition could do was set in motion against it.  The
necessity for an improved mode of communication between London and
Birmingham was clearly demonstrated; and the engineering evidence was
regarded as quite satisfactory.  Not a single fact was proved against the
utility of the measure, and the bill passed the Committee, and afterwards
the third reading in the Commons, by large majorities.

It was then sent to the Lords, and went into Committee, when a similar
mass of testimony was again gone through.  But it had been evident, from
the opening of the proceedings, that the fate of the bill had been
determined before even a word of the evidence had been heard.  At that
time the committees were open to all peers; and the promoters of the bill
found, to their dismay, many of the lords who were avowed opponents of
the measure as landowners, sitting as judges to decide its fate.  Their
principal object seemed to be, to bring the proceedings to a termination
as quickly as possible.  An attempt at negotiation was indeed made in the
course of the proceedings in committee, but failed, and the bill was
thrown out.

As the result had been foreseen, measures were taken to neutralise the
effect of this decision as regarded future operations.  Not less than
32,000 pounds had been expended in preliminary and parliamentary expenses
up to this stage; but the promoters determined not to look back, and
forthwith made arrangements for prosecuting the bill in the next session.
Strange to say, the bill then passed both Houses silently and almost
without opposition.  The mystery was afterwards solved by the appearance
of a circular issued by the directors of the company, in which it was
stated, that they had opened "negotiations" with the most influential of
their opponents; that "these measures had been successful to a greater
extent than they had ventured to anticipate; and the most active and
formidable had been conciliated."  An instructive commentary on the mode
by which these noble lords and influential landed proprietors had been
"conciliated," was the simple fact that the estimate for land was nearly
trebled, and that the owners were paid about 750,000 pounds for what had
been originally estimated at 250,000 pounds.

The landowners having thus been "conciliated," the promoters of the
measure were permitted to proceed with the formation of their great
highway.  Robert Stephenson was, with the sanction of his father,
appointed sole engineer; and steps were at once taken by him to make the
working survey, to prepare the working drawings, and arrange for the
construction of the railway.  Eighty miles of the road were shortly under
contract, having been let within the estimates; and the works were in
satisfactory progress by the beginning of 1834.

The difficulties encountered in their construction were very great; the
most formidable of them originating in the character of the works
themselves.  Extensive tunnels had to be driven through unknown strata,
and miles of underground excavation had to be carried out in order to
form a level road from valley to valley, under the intervening ridges.
This kind of work was the newest of all to the contractors of that day.
Robert Stephenson's experience in the collieries of the North rendered
him well fitted to grapple with such difficulties; yet even he, with all
his practical knowledge, could scarcely have foreseen the serious
obstacles which he was called upon to encounter in executing the
formidable cuttings, embankments, and tunnels of the London and
Birmingham Railway.  It would be an uninteresting, as it would be a
fruitless task, to attempt to describe the works in detail; but a general
outline of their extraordinary character and extent may not be out of
place.

                       [Picture: Rugby to Watford]

The length of railway to be constructed between London and Birmingham was
112.5 miles.  The line crossed a series of low-lying districts separated
from each other by considerable ridges of hills; and it was the object of
the engineer to cross the valleys at as high, and the hills at as low,
elevations as possible.  The high ground was therefore cut down and the
"stuff" led into embankments, in some places of great height and extent,
so as to form a road upon as level a plane as was considered practicable
for the working of the locomotive engine.  In some places, the high
grounds were passed in open cuttings, whilst in others it was necessary
to bore through them in tunnels with deep cuttings at each end.

The most formidable excavations on the line are those at Tring, Denbigh
Hall, and Blisworth.  The Tring cutting is an immense chasm across the
great chalk ridge of Ivinghoe.  It is 2.5 miles long, and for 0.25 of a
mile is 57 feet deep.  A million and a half cubic yards of chalk and
earth were taken out of this cutting by means of horse-runs and deposited
in spoil banks; besides the immense quantity run into the embankment
north of the cutting, forming a solid mound nearly 6 miles long and about
30 feet high.  Passing over the Denbigh Hall cutting, and the Wolverton
embankment of 1.5 mile in length across the valley of the Ouse, we come
to the excavation at Blisworth, a brief description of which will give
the reader an idea of one of the most difficult kinds of railway work.

                       [Picture: Blisworth Cutting]

The Blisworth Cutting is one of the longest and deepest grooves cut in
the solid earth.  It is 1.5 mile long, in some places 65 feet deep,
passing through earth, stiff clay, and hard rock.  Not less than a
million cubic yards of these materials were dug, quarried, and blasted
out of it.  One-third of the cutting was stone, and beneath the stone lay
a thick bed of clay, under which were found beds of loose shale so full
of water that almost constant pumping was necessary at many points to
enable the works to proceed.  For a year and a half the contractor went
on fruitlessly contending with these difficulties, and at length he was
compelled to abandon the adventure.  The engineer then took the works in
hand for the Company, and they were vigorously proceeded with.
Steam-engines were set to work to pump out the water; two locomotives
were put on, one at each end of the cutting, to drag away the excavated
rock and clay; and 800 men and boys were employed along the work, in
digging, wheeling, and blasting, besides a large number of horses.  Some
idea of the extent of the blasting operations may be formed from the fact
that 25 barrels of gunpowder were used weekly; the total quantity
exploded in forming this one cutting being about 3,000 barrels.
Considerable difficulty was experienced in supporting the bed of rock cut
through, which overlaid the clay and shale along each side of the
cutting.  It was found necessary to hold it up by strong retaining walls,
to prevent the clay bed from bulging out, and these walls were further
supported by a strong invert,--that is, an arch placed in an inverted
position under the road,--thus binding together the walls on both sides.
Behind the retaining walls, a drift or horizontal drain was provided to
enable the water to run off, and occasional openings were left in the
walls themselves for the same purpose.  The work was at length brought to
a successful completion, but the extraordinary difficulties encountered
in forming the cutting had the effect of greatly increasing the cost of
this portion of the railway.

The Tunnels on the line are eight in number, their total length being
7336 yards.  The first high ground encountered was Primrose Hill, where
the stiff London clay was passed through for a distance of about 1164
yards.  The clay was close, compact, and dry, more difficult to work than
stone itself.  It was entirely free from water; but the absorbing
properties of the clay were such that when exposed to the air it swelled
out rapidly.  Hence an unusual thickness of brick lining was found
necessary; and the engineer afterwards informed the author that for some
time he entertained an apprehension lest the pressure should force in the
brickwork altogether.  It was so great that it made the face of the
bricks to fly off in minute chips which covered his clothes whilst he was
inspecting the work.  The materials used in the building were, however,
of excellent quality; and the tunnel was happily brought to a completion
without any accident.

At Watford the chalk ridge was penetrated by a tunnel about 1800 yards
long; and at Northchurch, Lindslade, and Stowe Hill, there were other
tunnels of minor extent.  But the chief difficulty of the undertaking was
the execution of that under the Kilsby ridge.  Though not the largest,
this is in many respects one of the most interesting works of the kind in
England.  It is about 2400 yards long, and runs at an average depth of
about 160 feet below the surface.  The ridge under which it extends is of
considerable extent, the famous battle of Naseby having been fought upon
one of the spurs of the same high ground about seven miles to the
eastward.

Previous to the letting of the contract, the character of the underground
soil was examined by trial-shafts.  The tests indicated that it consisted
of shale of the lower oolite, and the works were let accordingly.  But
they had scarcely been commenced when it was discovered that, at an
interval between the two trial-shafts which had been sunk, about 200
yards from the south end of the tunnel, there existed an extensive
quicksand under a bed of clay 40 feet thick, which the borings had
escaped in the most singular manner.  At the bottom of one of these
shafts the excavation and building of the tunnel were proceeding, when
the roof at one part suddenly gave way, a deluge of water burst in, and
the party of workmen with the utmost difficulty escaped with their lives.
They were only saved by means of a raft, on which they were towed by one
of the engineers swimming with the rope in his mouth to the lower end of
the shaft, out of which they were safely lifted to the daylight.  The
works were of course at that point immediately stopped.

                 [Picture: The Shafts over Kilsby Tunnel]

The contractor, who had undertaken the construction of the tunnel, was so
overwhelmed by the calamity, that, though he was relieved by the Company
from his engagement, he took to his bed and shortly after died.
Pumping-engines were then erected for the purpose of draining off the
water, but for a long time it prevailed, and sometimes even rose in the
shaft.  The question then presented itself, whether in the face of so
formidable a difficulty, the works should be proceeded with or abandoned.
Robert Stephenson sent over to Alton Grange for his father, and the two
took serious counsel together.  George was in favour of pumping out the
water from the top by powerful engines erected over each shaft, until the
water was mastered.  Robert concurred in that view, and although other
engineers pronounced strongly against the practicability of the scheme
and advised its abandonment, the directors authorised him to proceed; and
powerful steam-engines were ordered to be constructed and delivered
without loss of time.

In the mean time, Robert suggested to his father the expediency of
running a drift along the heading from the south end of the tunnel, with
the view of draining off the water in that way.  George said he thought
it would scarcely answer, but that it was worth a trial, at all events
until the pumping-engines were got ready.  Robert accordingly gave orders
for the drift to be proceeded with.  The excavators were immediately set
to work; and they were very soon close upon the sand bed.  One day, when
the engineer, his assistants, and the workmen were clustered about the
open entrance of the drift-way, they heard a sudden roar as of distant
thunder.  It was hoped that the water had burst in--for all the workmen
were out of the drift,--and that the sand bed would now drain itself off
in a natural way.  Instead of which, very little water made its
appearance; and on examining the inner end of the drift, it was found
that the loud noise had been caused by the sudden discharge into it of an
immense mass of sand, which had completely choked up the passage, and
prevented the water from flowing away.

The engineer now found that there was nothing for it but to sink numerous
additional shafts over the line of the tunnel at the points at which it
crossed the quicksand, and endeavour to master the water by sheer force
of engines and pumps.  The engines erected, possessed an aggregate power
of 160 horses; and they went on pumping for eight successive months,
emptying out an almost incredible quantity of water.  It was found that
the water, with which the bed of sand extending over many miles was
charged, was to a certain degree held back by the particles of the sand
itself, and that it could only percolate through at a certain average
rate.  It appeared in its flow to take a slanting direction to the
suction of the pumps, the angle of inclination depending upon the
coarseness or fineness of the sand, and regulating the time of the flow.
Hence the distribution of the pumping power at short intervals along the
line of the tunnel had a much greater effect than the concentration of
that power at any one spot.  It soon appeared that the water had found
its master.  Protected by the pumps, which cleared a space for the
engineering operations--carried on in the midst, as it were, of two
almost perpendicular walls of water and sand on either side--the workmen
proceeded with the building of the tunnel at numerous points.  Every
exertion was used to wall in the dangerous parts as quickly as possible;
the excavators and bricklayers labouring night and day until the work was
finished.  Even while under the protection of the immense pumping power
above described, it often happened that the bricks were scarcely covered
with cement ready for the setting, ere they were washed quite clean by
the streams of water which poured from overhead.  The men were
accordingly under the necessity of holding over their work large whisks
of straw and other appliances to protect the bricks and cement at the
moment of setting.

The quantity of water pumped out of the sand bed during eight months of
incessant pumping, averaged 2,000 gallons per minute, raised from an
average depth of 120 feet.  It is difficult to form an adequate idea of
the bulk of the water thus raised, but it may be stated that if allowed
to flow for three hours only, it would fill a lake one acre square to the
depth of one foot, and if allowed to flow for one entire day it would
fill the lake to over eight feet in depth, or sufficient to float vessels
of 100 tons burthen.  The water pumped out of the tunnel while the work
was in progress would be nearly equivalent to the contents of the Thames
at high water, between London and Woolwich.  It is a curious circumstance
that notwithstanding the quantity thus removed, the level of the surface
of the water in the tunnel was only lowered about 2.5 to 3 inches per
week, proving the vast area of the quicksand, which probably extended
along the entire ridge of land under which the railway passed.

The cost of the line was greatly increased by the difficulties
encountered at Kilsby.  The original estimate for the tunnel was only
99,000 pounds; but before it was finished it had cost more than 100
pounds per lineal yard forward, or a total of nearly 300,000 pounds.  The
expenditure on the other parts of the line also greatly exceeded the
amount first set down by the engineer; and before the works were finished
it was more than doubled.  The land cost three times more than the
estimate; and the claims for compensation were enormous.  Although the
contracts were let within the estimates, very few of the contractors were
able to complete them without the assistance of the Company, and many
became bankrupt.

The magnitude of the works, which were unprecedented in England, was one
of the most remarkable features in the undertaking.  The following
striking comparison has been made between this railway and one of the
greatest works of ancient times.  The Great Pyramid of Egypt was,
according to Diodorus Siculus, constructed by 300,000--according to
Herodotus, by 100,000--men.  It required for its execution twenty years,
and the labour expended upon it has been estimated as equivalent to
lifting 15,733,000,000 of cubic feet of stone one foot high.  Whereas, if
the labour expended in constructing the London and Birmingham Railway be
in like manner reduced to one common denomination the result is
25,000,000,000 of cubic feet _more_ than was lifted for the Great
Pyramid; and yet the English work was performed by about 20,000 men in
less than five years.  And whilst the Egyptian work was executed by a
powerful monarch concentrating upon it the labour and capital of a great
nation, the English railway was constructed, in the face of every
conceivable obstruction and difficulty, by a company of private
individuals out of their own resources, without the aid of Government or
the contribution of one farthing of public money.

The labourers who executed this formidable work were in many respects a
remarkable class.  The "railway navvies," as they are called, were men
drawn by the attraction of good wages from all parts of the kingdom; and
they were ready for any sort of hard work.  Some of the best came from
the fen districts of Lincoln and Cambridge, where they had been trained
to execute works of excavation and embankment.  These old practitioners
formed a nucleus of skilled manipulation and aptitude, which rendered
them of indispensable utility in the immense undertakings of the period.
Their expertness in all sorts of earthwork, in embanking, boring, and
well-sinking--their practical knowledge of the nature of soils and rocks,
the tenacity of clays, and the porosity of certain stratifications--were
very great; and, rough-looking though they were, many of them were as
important in their own department as the contractor or the engineer.

During the railway-making period the navvy wandered about from one public
work to another--apparently belonging to no country and having no home.
He usually wore a white felt hat with the brim turned up, a velveteen or
jean square-tailed coat, a scarlet plush waistcoat with little black
spots, and a bright-coloured kerchief round his herculean neck, when, as
often happened, it was not left entirely bare.  His corduroy breeches
were retained in position by a leathern strap round the waist, and were
tied and buttoned at the knee, displaying beneath a solid calf and foot
encased in strong high-laced boots.  Joining together in a "butty gang,"
some ten or twelve of these men would take a contract to cut out and
remove so much "dirt"--as they denominated earth-cutting--fixing their
price according to the character of the "stuff," and the distance to
which it had to be wheeled and tipped.  The contract taken, every man put
himself on his mettle; if any was found skulking, or not putting forth
his full working power, he was ejected from the gang.  Their powers of
endurance were extraordinary.  In times of emergency they would work for
12 and even 16 hours, with only short intervals for meals.  The quantity
of flesh-meat which they consumed was something enormous; but it was to
their bones and muscles what coke is to the locomotive--the means of
keeping up the steam.  They displayed great pluck, and seemed to
disregard peril.  Indeed the most dangerous sort of labour--such as
working horse-barrow runs, in which accidents are of constant
occurrence--has always been most in request amongst them, the danger
seeming to be one of its chief recommendations.

Working, eating, drinking, and sleeping together, and daily exposed to
the same influences, these railway labourers soon presented a distinct
and well-defined character, strongly marking them from the population of
the districts in which they laboured.  Reckless alike of their lives as
of their earnings, the navvies worked hard and lived hard.  For their
lodging, a hut of turf would content them; and, in their hours of
leisure, the meanest public-house would serve for their parlour.
Unburdened, as they usually were, by domestic ties, unsoftened by family
affection, and without much moral or religious training, the navvies came
to be distinguished by a sort of savage manners, which contrasted
strangely with those of the surrounding population.  Yet, ignorant and
violent though they might be, they were usually good-hearted fellows in
the main--frank and openhanded with their comrades, and ready to share
their last penny with those in distress.  Their pay-nights were often a
saturnalia of riot and disorder, dreaded by the inhabitants of the
villages along the line of works.  The irruption of such men into the
quiet hamlet of Kilsby must, indeed, have produced a very startling
effect on the recluse inhabitants of the place.  Robert Stephenson used
to tell a story of the clergyman of the parish waiting upon the foreman
of one of the gangs to expostulate with him as to the shocking
impropriety of his men working during Sunday.  But the head navvy merely
hitched up his trousers, and said, "Why, Soondays hain't cropt out here
yet!"  In short, the navvies were little better than heathens, and the
village of Kilsby was not restored to its wonted quiet until the
tunnel-works were finished, and the engines and scaffoldings removed,
leaving only the immense masses of _debris_ around the line of shafts
which extend along the top of the tunnel.

In illustration of the extraordinary working energy and powers of
endurance of the English navvies, we may mention that when railway-making
extended to France, the English contractors for the works took with them
gangs of English navvies, with the usual plant, which included
wheelbarrows.  These the English navvy was accustomed to run out rapidly
and continuously, piled so high with "stuff" that he could barely see
over the summit of his load, the gang-board along which he wheeled his
barrow.  While he thus easily ran out some 3 or 4 cwt. at a time, the
French navvy was contented with half the weight.  Indeed, the French
navvies on one occasion struck work because of the size of the English
barrows, and there was an _emeute_ on the Rouen Railway, which was only
quelled by the aid of the military.  The consequence was that the big
barrows were abandoned to the English workmen, who earned nearly double
the wages of the Frenchmen.  The manner in which they stood to their work
was matter of great surprise and wonderment to the French countrypeople,
who came crowding round them in their blouses, and, after gazing
admiringly at their expert handling of the pick and mattock, and the
immense loads of "dirt" which they wheeled out, would exclaim to each
other, "_Mon Dieu_, _voila_! _voila ces Anglais_, _comme ils
travaillent_!"




CHAPTER XIV.
MANCHESTER AND LEEDS, AND MIDLAND RAILWAYS--STEPHENSON'S LIFE AT
ALTON--VISIT TO BELGIUM--GENERAL EXTENSION OF RAILWAYS AND THEIR RESULTS.


The rapidity with which railways were carried out, when the spirit of the
country became roused, was indeed remarkable.  This was doubtless in some
measure owing to the increased force of the current of speculation at the
time, but chiefly to the desire which the public began to entertain for
the general extension of the system.  It was even proposed to fill up the
canals, and convert them into railways.  The new roads became the topic
of conversation in all circles; they were felt to give a new value to
time; their vast capabilities for "business" peculiarly recommended them
to the trading classes; whilst the friends of "progress" dilated on the
great benefits they would eventually confer upon mankind at large.  It
began to be seen that Edward Pease had not been exaggerating when he
said, "Let the country but make the railroads, and the railroads will
make the country!"  They also came to be regarded as inviting objects of
investment to the thrifty, and a safe outlet for the accumulations of
inert men of capital.  Thus new avenues of iron road were soon in course
of formation, branching in all directions, so that the country promised
in a wonderfully short time to become wrapped in one vast network of
iron.

In 1836 the Grand Junction Railway was under construction between
Warrington and Birmingham--the northern part by Mr. Stephenson, and the
southern by Mr. Rastrick.  The works on that line embraced heavy
cuttings, long embankments, and numerous viaducts; but none of these are
worthy of any special description.  Perhaps the finest piece of masonry
on the railway is the Dutton Viaduct across the valley of the Weaver.  It
consists of twenty arches of 60 feet span, springing 16 feet from the
perpendicular shaft of each pier, and 60 feet in height from the crown of
the arches to the level of the river.  The foundations of the piers were
built on piles driven 20 feet deep.  The structure has a solid and
majestic appearance, and is perhaps the finest of George Stephenson's
viaducts.

                      [Picture: The Dutton Viaduct]

The Manchester and Leeds line was in progress at the same time--an
important railway connecting the principal manufacturing towns of
Yorkshire and Lancashire.  An attempt was made to obtain the Act as early
as 1831; but its promoters were defeated by the powerful opposition of
the landowners aided by the canal companies, and the project was not
revived for several years.  The line was somewhat circuitous, and the
works were heavy; but on the whole the gradients were favourable, and it
had the advantage of passing through a district full of manufacturing
towns and villages, teeming hives of population, industry, and
enterprise.  The Act authorising the construction of the railway was
obtained in 1836; it was greatly amended in the succeeding year, and the
first ground was broken on the 18th August, 1837.

In conducting this project to an issue, the engineer had the usual
opposition and prejudices to encounter.  Predictions were confidently
made in many quarters that the line could never succeed.  It was declared
that the utmost engineering skill could not construct a railway through
such a country of hills and hard rocks; and it was maintained that, even
if the railroad were practicable, it could only be made at a ruinous
cost.

During the progress of the works, as the Summit Tunnel, near
Littleborough, was approaching completion, the rumour was spread abroad
in Manchester that the tunnel had fallen in and buried a number of the
workmen.  The last arch had been keyed in, and the work was all but
finished, when the accident occurred which was thus exaggerated by the
lying tongue of rumour.  An invert had given way through the irregular
pressure of the surrounding earth and rock at a part of the tunnel where
a "fault" had occurred in the strata.  A party of the directors
accompanied the engineer to inspect the scene of the accident.  They
entered the tunnel's mouth preceded by upwards of fifty navvies, each
bearing a torch.

After walking a distance of about half a mile, the inspecting party
arrived at the scene of the "frightful accident," about which so much
alarm had been spread.  All that was visible was a certain unevenness of
the ground, which had been forced up by the invert under it giving way;
thus the ballast had been loosened, the drain running along the centre of
the road had been displaced, and small pools of water stood about.  But
the whole of the walls and the roof were still as perfect as at any other
part of the tunnel.

         [Picture: Entrance to the Summit Tunnel, Littleborough]

The engineer explained the cause of the accident; the blue shale, he
said, through which the excavation passed at that point, was considered
so hard and firm, as to render it unnecessary to build the invert very
strong there.  But shale is always a deceptive material.  Subjected to
the influence of the atmosphere, it gives but a treacherous support.  In
this case, falling away like quicklime, it had left the lip of the invert
alone to support the pressure of the arch above, and hence its springing
inwards and upwards.  Mr. Stephenson directed the attention of the
visitors to the completeness of the arch overhead, where not the
slightest fracture or yielding could be detected.  Speaking of the work,
in the course of the same day, he said, "I will stake my character and my
head, if that tunnel ever give way, so as to cause danger to any of the
public passing through it.  Taking it as a whole, I don't think there is
such another piece of work in the world.  It is the greatest work that
has yet been done of this kind, and there has been less repairing than is
usual,--though an engineer might well be beaten in his calculations, for
he cannot beforehand see into those little fractured parts of the earth
he may meet with."  As Stephenson had promised, the invert was put in;
and the tunnel was made perfectly safe.

The construction of this subterranean road employed the labour of above a
thousand men for nearly four years.  Besides excavating the arch out of a
solid rock, they used 23,000,000 of bricks, and 8000 tons of Roman cement
in the building of the tunnel.  Thirteen stationary engines, and about
100 horses, were also employed in drawing the earth and stone out of the
shafts.  Its entire length is 2869 yards, or nearly 1.75 mile--exceeding
the famous Kilsby Tunnel by 471 yards.

The Midland Railway was a favourite line of Mr. Stephenson's for several
reasons.  It passed through a rich mining district, in which it opened up
many valuable coalfields, and it formed part of the great main line of
communication between London and Edinburgh.  The Act was obtained in
1836, and the first ground was broken in February, 1837.

Although the Midland Railway was only one of the many great works of the
same kind executed at that time, it was almost enough of itself to be the
achievement of a life.  Compare it, for example with Napoleon's military
road over the Simplon, and it will at once be seen how greatly it excels
that work, not only in the constructive skill displayed in it, but also
in its cost and magnitude, and the amount of labour employed in its
formation.  The road of the Simplon is 45 miles in length; the North
Midland Railway is 72.5 miles.  The former has 50 bridges and 5 tunnels,
measuring together 1338 feet in length; the latter has 200 bridges and 7
tunnels, measuring together 11,400 feet, or about 2.25 miles.  The former
cost about 720,000 pounds sterling, the latter above 3,000,000 pounds.
Napoleon's grand military road was constructed in six years, at the
public cost of the two great kingdoms of France and Italy; while
Stephenson's railway was formed in about three years, by a company of
private merchants and capitalists out of their own funds, and under their
own superintendence.

It is scarcely necessary that we should give any account in detail of the
North Midland works.  The making of one tunnel so much resembles the
making of another,--the building of bridges and viaducts, no matter how
extensive, so much resembles the building of others,--the cutting out of
"dirt," the blasting of rocks, and the wheeling of excavation into
embankments, is so much a matter of mere time and hard work,--that is
quite unnecessary for us to detain the reader by any attempt at their
description.  Of course there were the usual difficulties to encounter
and overcome,--but the railway engineer regarded these as mere matters of
course, and would probably have been disappointed if they had not
presented themselves.

On the Midland, as on other lines, water was the great enemy to be fought
against,--water in the Claycross and other tunnels,--water in the boggy
or sandy foundations of bridges,--and water in cuttings and embankments.
As an illustration of the difficulties of bridge building, we may mention
the case of the five-arch bridge over the Derwent, where it took two
years' work, night and day, to get in the foundations of the piers alone.
Another curious illustration of the mischief done by water in cuttings
may be briefly mentioned.  At a part of the North Midland Line, near
Ambergate, it was necessary to pass along a hillside in a cutting a few
yards deep.  As the cutting proceeded, a seam of shale was cut across,
lying at an inclination of 6 to 1; and shortly after, the water getting
behind the bed of shale, the whole mass of earth along the hill above
began to move down across the line of excavation.  The accident
completely upset the estimates of the contractor, who, instead of 50,000
cubic yards, found that he had about 500,000 to remove; the execution of
this part of the railway occupying fifteen months instead of two.

        [Picture: Land-slip on North Midland Line, near Ambergate]

The Oakenshaw cutting near Wakefield was also of a very formidable
character.  About 600,000 yards of rock shale and bind were quarried out
of it, and led to form the adjoining Oakenshaw embankment.  The Normanton
cutting was almost as heavy, requiring the removal of 400,000 yards of
the same kind of excavation into embankment and spoil.  But the progress
of the works on the line was so rapid in 1839, that not less than 450,000
cubic yards of excavation were removed monthly.

                  [Picture: Bullbridge, near Ambergate]

As a curiosity in construction, we may also mention a very delicate piece
of work executed on the same railway at Bullbridge in Derbyshire, where
the line at the same point passes _over_ a bridge which here spans the
river Amber, and _under_ the bed of the Cromford Canal.  Water, bridge;
railway, and canal, were thus piled one above the other, four stories
high; such another curious complication probably not existing.  In order
to prevent the possibility of the waters of the canal breaking in upon
the works of the railroad, Mr. Stephenson had an iron trough made, 150
feet long, of the width of the canal, and exactly fitting the bottom.  It
was brought to the spot in three pieces, which were firmly welded
together, and the trough was then floated into its place and sunk; the
whole operation being completed without in the least interfering with the
navigation of the canal.  The railway works underneath were then
proceeded with and finished.

Another line of the same series constructed by George Stephenson, was the
York and North Midland, extending from Normanton--a point on the Midland
Railway--to York; but it was a line of easy formation, traversing a
comparatively level country.

During the time that our engineer was engaged in superintending the
execution of these undertakings, he was occupied upon other projected
railways in various parts of the country.  He surveyed several lines in
the neighbourhood of Glasgow, and afterwards routes along the east coast
from Newcastle to Edinburgh, with the view of completing the main line of
communication with London.  When out on foot in the fields, on these
occasions, he was ever foremost in the march; and he delighted to test
the prowess of his companions by a good jump at any hedge or ditch that
lay in their way.  His companions used to remark his singular quickness
of observation.  Nothing escaped his attention--the trees, the crops, the
birds, or the farmer's stock; and he was usually full of lively
conversation, everything in nature affording him an opportunity for
making some striking remark, or propounding some ingenious theory.  When
taking a flying survey of a new line, his keen observation proved very
useful to him, for he rapidly noted the general configuration of the
country, and inferred its geological structure.  He afterwards remarked
to a friend, "I have planned many a railway travelling along in a
postchaise, and following the natural line of the country."  And it was
remarkable that his first impressions of the direction to be taken almost
invariably proved correct; and there are few of the lines surveyed and
recommended by him which have not been executed, either during his
lifetime or since.  As an illustration of his quick and shrewd
observation on such occasions, we may mention that when employed to lay
out a line to connect Manchester, through Macclesfield, with the
Potteries, the gentleman who accompanied him on the journey of inspection
cautioned him to provide large accommodation for carrying off the water,
observing--"You must not judge by the appearance of the brooks; for after
heavy rains these hills pour down volumes of _water_, of which you can
have no conception."  "Pooh! pooh! _don't I see your bridges_?" replied
the engineer.  He had noted the details of each as he passed along.

Among the other projects which occupied his attention about the same
time, were the projected lines between Chester and Holyhead, between
Leeds and Bradford, and between Lancaster and Maryport by the western
coast.  This latter was intended to form part of a west-coast line to
Scotland; Stephenson favouring it partly because of the flatness of the
gradients, and also because it could be formed at comparatively small
cost, whilst it would open out a valuable iron-mining district, from
which a large traffic in ironstone was expected.  One of its collateral
advantages, in the engineer's opinion, was, that by forming the railway
directly across Morecambe Bay, on the north-west coast of Lancashire, a
large tract of valuable land might be reclaimed from the sea, the sale of
which would considerably reduce the cost of the works.  He estimated that
by means of a solid embankment across the bay, not less than 40,000 acres
of rich alluvial land would be gained.  He proposed to carry the road
across the ten miles of sands which lie between Poulton, near Lancaster,
and Humphrey Head on the opposite coast, forming the line in a segment of
a circle of five miles' radius.  His plan was to drive in piles across
the entire length, forming a solid fence of stone blocks on the land side
for the purpose of retaining the sand and silt brought down by the rivers
from the interior.  The embankment would then be raised from time to time
as the deposit accumulated, until the land was filled up to high-water
mark; provision being made by means of sufficient arches, for the flow of
the river waters into the bay.  The execution of the railway after this
plan would, however, have occupied more years than the promoters of the
West Coast line were disposed to wait; and eventually Mr. Locke's more
direct but uneven line by Shap Fell was adopted.  A railway has since
been carried across the head of the bay; and it is not improbable that
Stephenson's larger scheme of reclaiming the vast tract of land now left
bare at each receding tide, may yet be carried out.

While occupied in carrying out the great railway undertakings which we
have above so briefly described, Mr. Stephenson's home continued, for the
greater part of the time, to be at Alton Grange, near Leicester.  But he
was so much occupied in travelling about from one committee of directors
to another--one week in England, another in Scotland, and probably the
next in Ireland,--that he often did not see his home for weeks together.
He had also to make frequent inspections of the various important and
difficult works in progress, especially on the Midland and Manchester and
Leeds lines; besides occasionally going to Newcastle to see how the
locomotive works were going on there.  During the three years ending in
1837--perhaps the busiest years of his life {263}--he travelled by
postchaise alone upwards of 20,000 miles, and yet not less than six
months out of the three years were spent in London.  Hence there is
comparatively little to record of Mr. Stephenson's private life at this
period; during which he had scarcely a moment that he could call his own.

His correspondence increased so much, that he found it necessary to
engage a private secretary, who accompanied him on his journeys.  He was
himself exceedingly averse to writing letters.  The comparatively
advanced age at which ho learnt the art of writing, and the nature of his
duties while engaged at the Killingworth colliery, precluded that
facility in correspondence which only constant practice can give.  He
gradually, however, acquired great facility in dictation, and possessed
the power of labouring continuously at this work; the gentleman who acted
as his secretary in 1835, having informed us that during his busy season
he one day dictated not fewer than 37 letters, several of them embodying
the results of much close thinking and calculation.  On another occasion,
he dictated reports and letters for twelve continuous hours, until his
secretary was ready to drop off his chair from sheer exhaustion, and at
length he pleaded for a suspension of the labour.  This great mass of
correspondence, although closely bearing on the subjects under
discussion, was not, however, of a kind to supply the biographer with
matter for quotation, or give that insight into the life and character of
the writer which the letters of literary men so often furnish.  They
were, for the most part, letters of mere business, relating to works in
progress, parliamentary contests, new surveys, estimates of cost, and
railway policy,--curt, and to the point; in short, the letters of a man
every moment of whose time was precious.  He was also frequently called
upon to inspect and report upon colliery works, salt works, brass and
copper works, and such like, in addition to his own colliery and railway
business.  And occasionally he would run up to London, for the purpose of
attending in person to the preparation and deposit of the plans and
sections of the projected undertakings of which he had been appointed
engineer.

Fortunately Stephenson possessed a facility of sleeping, which enabled
him to pass through this enormous amount of fatigue and labour without
injury to his health.  He had been trained in a hard school, and could
bear with ease conditions which, to men more softly nurtured, would have
been the extreme of physical discomfort.  Many, many nights he snatched
his sleep while travelling in his chaise; and at break of day he would be
at work, surveying until dark, and this for weeks in succession.  His
whole powers seemed to be under the control of his will, for he could
wake at any hour, and go to work at once.  It was difficult for
secretaries and assistants to keep up with such a man.

It is pleasant to record that in the midst of these engrossing
occupations, his heart remained as soft and loving as ever.  In
spring-time he would not be debarred of his boyish pursuit of
bird-nesting; but would go rambling along the hedges spying for nests.
In the autumn he went nutting, and when he could snatch a few minutes he
indulged in his old love of gardening.  His uniform kindness and good
temper, and his communicative, intelligent disposition, made him a great
favourite with the neighbouring farmers, to whom he would volunteer much
valuable advice on agricultural operations, drainage, ploughing, and
labour-saving processes.  Sometimes he took a long rural ride on his
favourite "Bobby," now growing old, but as fond of his master as ever.
Towards the end of his life, "Bobby" lived in clover, its master's pet,
doing no work; and he died at Tapton, in 1845, more than twenty years
old.

During one of George's brief sojourns at the Grange, he found time to
write to his son a touching account of a pair of robins that had built
their nest within one of the upper chambers of the house.  One day he
observed a robin fluttering outside the windows, and beating its wings
against the panes, as if eager to gain admission.  He went up stairs, and
there found, in a retired part of one of the rooms, a robin's nest, with
one of the parent birds sitting over three or four young--all dead.  The
excluded bird outside still beat against the panes; and on the window
being let down, it flew into the room, but was so exhausted that it
dropped upon the floor.  Mr. Stephenson took up the bird, carried it down
stairs, had it warmed and fed.  The poor robin revived, and for a time
was one of his pets.  But it shortly died too, as if unable to recover
from the privations it had endured during its three days' fluttering and
beating at the windows.  It appeared that the room had been unoccupied,
and, the sash having been let down, the robins had taken the opportunity
of building their nest within it; but the servant having closed the
window again, the calamity befel the birds which so strongly excited Mr.
Stephenson's sympathies.  An incident such as this, trifling though it
may seem, gives the true key to the heart of the man.

The amount of their Parliamentary business having greatly increased with
the projection of new lines of railway, the Stephensons found it
necessary to set up an office in London in 1836.  George's first office
was at 9, Duke Street, Westminster, from whence he removed in the
following year to 30.5, Great George-street.  That office was the busy
scene of railway politics for several years.  There consultations were
held, schemes were matured, deputations were received, and many
projectors called upon our engineer for the purpose of submitting to him
their plans of railways and railway working.  His private secretary at
the time has informed us that at the end of the first Parliamentary
session in which he had been engaged as engineer for more companies than
one, it became necessary for him to give instructions as to the
preparation of the accounts to be rendered to the respective companies.
In the simplicity of his heart, he directed Mr. Binns to take his full
time at the rate of ten guineas a day, and charge the railway companies
in the proportion in which he had been actually employed on their
respective business during each day.  When Robert heard of this
instruction, he went directly to his father and expostulated with him
against this unprofessional course; and, other influences being brought
to bear upon him, George at length reluctantly consented to charge as
other engineers did, an entire day's fee to each of the Companies for
which he was concerned whilst their business was going forward; but he
cut down the number of days charged for and reduced the daily amount from
ten to seven guineas.

Besides his journeys at home, Mr. Stephenson was on more than one
occasion called abroad on railway business.  Thus, at the desire of King
Leopold, he made several visits to Belgium to assist the Belgian
engineers in laying out the national lines of that kingdom.  That
enlightened monarch at an early period discerned the powerful
instrumentality of railways in developing a country's resources, and he
determined at the earliest possible period to adopt them as the great
high-roads of the nation.  The country, being rich in coal and minerals,
had great manufacturing capabilities.  It had good ports, fine navigable
rivers, abundant canals, and a teeming, industrious population.  Leopold
perceived that railways were eminently calculated to bring the industry
of the country into full play, and to render the riches of the provinces
available to the rest of the kingdom.  He therefore openly declared
himself the promoter of public railways throughout Belgium.  A system of
lines was projected, at his instance, connecting Brussels with the chief
towns and cities of the kingdom; extending from Ostend eastward to the
Prussian frontier, and from Antwerp southward to the French frontier.

Mr. Stephenson and his son, as the leading railway-engineers of England,
were consulted by the King on the best mode of carrying out his important
plans, as early as 1835.  In the course of that year they visited
Belgium, and had several interesting conferences with Leopold and his
ministers on the subject of the proposed railways.  The King then
appointed George Stephenson by royal ordinance a Knight of the Order of
Leopold.  At the invitation of the monarch, Mr. Stephenson made a second
visit to Belgium in 1837, on the occasion of the public opening of the
line from Brussels to Ghent.  At Brussels there was a public procession,
and another at Ghent on the arrival of the train.  Stephenson and his
party accompanied it to the Public Hall, there to dine with the chief
Ministers of State, the municipal authorities, and about five hundred of
the principal inhabitants of the city; the English Ambassador being also
present.  After the King's health and a few others had been drunk, that
of Mr. Stephenson was proposed; on which the whole assembly rose up,
amidst great excitement and loud applause, and made their way to where he
sat, in order to jingle glasses with him, greatly to his own amazement.
On the day following, our engineer dined with the King and Queen at their
own table at Laaken, by special invitation; afterwards accompanying his
Majesty and suite to a public ball given by the municipality of Brussels,
in honour of the opening of the line to Ghent, as well as of their
distinguished English guest.  On entering the room, the general and
excited inquiry was, "Which is Stephenson?"  The English engineer had not
before imagined that he was esteemed to be so great a man.